Coffee, Tea, or SteeleTranscribed from the Episode Written
by:Robin Bernheim

Restored scenes in RED

Thanks, Debra!

A jetliner takes off at night. Inside, a stewardess carries
a tray past some sleeping passengers in the first class lounge
as a pianist plays. Stopping before a well dressed, elderly woman
with a pink poodle in her lap, she asks, "A little more pate,
Mrs. Sinclair?"

"Thank you, my dear," Mrs. Sinclair says, taking
one of the canapés and feeding it to her dog as the young
woman watches.

Another stewardess brings a tray to another man as a similarly
uniformed manicurist finishes her work. The young woman hands
him a glass, and is hailed by yet another passenger, this one
elderly. "Oh, miss, more champagne. I just made two million
over the Rockies." Another passenger looks on, interested
in his statement, as the stewardess smiles. "General Motors
is up a quarter."

"Of course, Mr. Dayton," she tells him, continuing
on.

The interested man tells Dayton, "Congratulations."

Dayton looks at him. "Tell me more about that tax shelter."

In the kitchen, the stewardess is pouring champagne. Another
stewardess brings coffee through the lounge and to the cockpit.
She tells the Captain, "I thought you'd like a fresh one
before we land."

"Thank you, Sally," he says, taking his cup.

She turns to the co-pilot, who smiles at her as he takes his
cup from the tray. "You're the cream in my coffee,"
he sings.

Sally smiles and leaves the cockpit.

The plane lands, and in the baggage waiting area for "Platinum
Airlines", the passengers are gathered to wait for their
luggage to be retrieved from the airplane via a chute. Cases slide
down onto the carousel, and are retrieved by uniformed men.

"Fabulous flight," Mrs. Sinclair tells Dayton. "As
always."

"The whole operation is simply flawless," Dayton
declares.

Suddenly the body of a man slides through the chute and onto
the carousel. Mrs. Sinclair screams, hre dog barks. A young woman
in a skimpy outfit, holding a tray with two glasses of champagne,
turns nervously to the passengers. "Champagne, anyone?"

"Well, he should know," Laura
says matter-of-factly. Then looking toward his office, she adds,
"Time to give the professor a little pop quiz."

Steele is lounging on his sofa, beneath the wall of photos,
talking to an eager young man. "Although it takes years to
develop the imagination of a master sleuth," Steele is telling
him, as an angry Laura watches from the doorway, "To hone
the instincts to a razor-sharp sensitivity, to-" Laura clears
her throat to get his attention. "Ah, Miss Holt," he
says, sitting up and then standing. "Come in! Come in! Please.
Yes, yes." He puts his arm around the young man. "I'd
like you to meet Marvin T. Slottman, Jr."

"I can't tell you what an honor it is to be working for
Mr. Steele," Marvin tells Laura.

Steele waves away the praise as Laura smiles as well. "I've
always found it a challenge to find the right words," she
tells Marvin. "May I -see you in my office, Mr. Steele?"
she asks brightly, pointing in that direction with her purse.

Steele looks a trifle nervous. "Yes. Certainly,"
he says as she walks off. "Probably a crime solving case
that demands my immediate attention, Marvin," he tells Marvin
slowly, his gaze following Laura from the room. "Please,
enjoy the photographs, will you?" he looks worriedly toward
Laura's door as he heads that way.

"Oh, just one or two special appearances, Laura,"
he tells her. "I didn't think you needed to be bothered."

"And- now what are you doing?" she asks, pointing
toward the office door and Marvin beyond.

"Oh, merely easing the burden of an unwieldy caseload,"
he assures her. There is a knock on the door. "Yes?"
Steele calls, smiling.

The door opens, and Marvin is there. "Excuse me, sir,
may I ask you a question?"

"You see?" Steele tells Laura. "Eager to learn.
Fire away, my boy."

"Was that heavy, or medium starch on those collars?"
Marvin asks.

Laura looks away, as Steele pushes Marvin out of her office.
"Uh, we'll- uh, we'll clarify that later, Marvin," he
says. "Thank you very much. Good boy," he says, closing
the door again, looking uncertainly at Laura.

"Unwieldy caseload?" Laura questions.

"Well, there are some ancillary responsibilities I had
in mind for the lad," Steele admits.

Laura checks her watch. "We've gotta fly. We will discuss
this later."

Mildred is crossing toward her desk with a cup of coffee when
Laura's office door opens. "Mildred, we'll be at Platinum
Air," Laura tells her.

"What about Joe College?" Mildred asks.

"We'll settle that this afternoon," Laura says, continuing
to the doors.

Steele looks thoughtful and tells her quietly, "In the
meantime, Mildred, find a suitable place for the young man, will
you? Splendid." He blows her a kiss as he leaves.

Mildred looks uncertain and a bit miffed as she turns to see
Marvin come from Steele's office with a decidedly proprietary
air. Mildred's spine stiffens as she meets his gaze. Marvin looks
suddenly nervous and smiles at her, stuffing a hand in his pocket.

***

At Platinum Air, the baggage carousel is now empty, as is the
lobby. Laura and Steele walk up to it as a man tells them, "Plopped
right down here like a sack of potatoes."

"Any idea how the body got on board, Mr. Ketchum?"
Laura asks.

Ketchum looks at Steele. "Good question. It couldn't have
been a passenger that brought him on. We keep records of everything
the passengers check."

"Which means it must be one of the crew members,"
Steele says as Laura looks on, frustrated at being ignored.

"Bingo!" Ketchum tells him. "We don't keep track
of what the crew brings on board. Never had a reason to before.
Our new baggage handling system is strictly state of the art.
The bags are vacuum tubed from the cargo hold right down to the
carousel. No one touches 'em the moment they leave the plane."
He picks up a torn canvas bag and shows it to Steele. "He's
the bag the stiff was in."

"Hmm. Still a few termites in the system, eh?" Steele
asks.

"Police still haven't been able to ID the corpse,"
Ketchum tells him.

"He wasn't a passenger?" Laura asks.

Ketchum laughs. "Oh, no. Wrong tax bracket. Thirty percent
at the outside from the looks of his suit," he tells Steele.
"Besides, the lab boy said he was dead long before he was
put on the plane."

Steele puts the torn back down. "I notice the news media
haven't broken the story yet."

"Well, let's just say I've got- friends in high places,"
Ketchum says. "But I can't keep this under wraps for long.
I'll level with you, Steele. Platinum Air is an image business.
One word of this gets out, I'm grounded. You've got to find out
which of my crew is behind this, and you've got to find out pronto."

Ketchum looks at Steele again. "I knew I could count on
you, Steele," he says.

Laura looks a little upset to be so ignored yet again.

***

Platinum Air's plane takes off. On board, Steele is sitting
in the lounge, reading the paper. As the stewardess walks by,
he lowers it. "Oh, Miss?"

She stops, and turns. It's Laura, dressed as a stewardess.
She's carrying a pot of coffee, and walks back to him as he smiles
at her, holding his cup. "A touch more coffee, if you please?"

She bends down to pour. "I hope you're enjoying this,"
she mutters.

He looks over her legs beneath the short skirt. "Oh, come
now, Laura. We all have our place. You don't expect me to prance
around in a little tutu like that, now, do you?" She glares
at him as she finishes pouring. "Thank you." She moves
off.

As she leaves, the man with the tax shelter idea notices her,
and tells Steele, "With scenery like that, who needs a window
seat?" Steele grins. The man sits down. "I could use
another club soda."

Steele smiles. "Oh, allow me," he insists, flipping
the call switch on the table beside him with a flourish.

In the cockpit, the engineer turns and removes his headphones.
"Rangers are down by two," he tells the others.

"They haven't played the same since Esposito hung 'em
up," the pilot says as Laura comes in with a tray of coffee.

The co-pilot smiles. "Hey, pretty lady. What's your name?"
he asks.

"Laura Holt."

"Laura, is the face in the misty night," he sings.
"How about dinner?" he asks.

"How about no?" she replies, turning and leaving
the flight deck.

The pilot and engineer smile.

"She's crazy about me," the co-pilot insists.

***

The plane lands in New York. As the stewardesses are leaving
the airplane, Laura tells them, "I'm so exhausted I can hardly
walk."

"Not me," Lorraine says. "It's samba night at
the Ramada."

"Don't you ever stop?" Sally asks her.

"No. You gotta kiss a lot of frogs before you find yourself
a handsome prince," Lorraine insists.

"Yeah, well, you would know," Sally says.

"Oh, what is that supposed to mean?" Lorraine asks.

"Oh, come on," Sally begins.

Wanda interrupts the impending argument. "I'll catch you
later. I'm meeting my cousin for dinner." She looks nervously
at Laura. "I'll see you tomorrow," she says, then rushes
off.

Laura looks at her watch. "I have to make a call,"
she tells Lorraine and Sally.

"What about the bus?" Lorraine asks.

"I'll- catch the next one," Laura tells her, then
takes off.

Wanda enters a hallway to see Barry enter. She joins him. Laura
comes around the corner and sees them, presses herself to the
wall to watch. Wanda is upset by something, and Barry tries to
calm her down. He finally gives her a long kiss, then picks up
his case and they leave together. Laura follows.

***

Steele enters the baggage center control
room for Platinum Air. It's dark, so he finds his cigarette lighter
and flicks it on, bathing the entire room in bright light. As
he's bending down investigating something, someone knocks him
over the head. He falls to the floor with a groan

A few moments later, Remington's prone
body comes flying through the baggage vacuum and lands on the
revolving luggage carousel. He manages to roll himself over to
the edge of the conveyor belt, roll over onto the floor, and groggily
picks himself up. As he brushes himself off, he suddenly realizes
he's in the crowded terminal and everyone is looking at him and
his bloody forehead. He assumes a very non-chalant air, strolls
over to the shocked baggage man, and pulls some bills out of his
pocket.

"Brown suede, leather handles..."
Remington calmly tells the man. "Keep an eye out for it,
old man, will you?"

Remington hands the baggage man the wad
of bills, turns and walks over to the Platinum girl in the skimpy
outfit who is carrying drinks on a silver tray. He picks up a
glass of champagne, takes one swallow from it, removes the rose
from his lapel and sniffs it. He then drops the rose into the
glass of champagne, sets the glass back on the tray, and walks
away without saying a word. The girl can't help but grin as she
watches him walk away.

Laura drops her case and turns to find him laying on the bed,
his shirt unbuttoned, glass of champagne in hand. "Hi, babe,"
he says. "What's happening?"

"HOW did you get in here?" Laura asks him.

"Oh, the desk clerk and I go way, way back," he tells
her, picking up a key from the night stand and standing up.

"Out," she tells him.

"I dream of Laura with the light brown hair," he
sings, touching her hair.

"I don't think you're getting the message."

"Ah, you gotta relax, baby," he says, moving closer.

Sally opens the door. "Laura, have you got any-"
she stops upon seeing the couple, an angry look on her face. "Don't
let me interrupt," she says, and takes off.

"Sally!" he calls, running after her.

Laura sighs and goes to close the door. As soon as it's closed,
there's another knock. Opening it, she says, "Now listen,
you sexist dog!-"

It's Steele, with an abrasion on his forehead. "I'm all
ears," he assures her, entering the room as she steps back.

"I've had about all I can take on this assignment,"
Laura frets, following him to the bed, where he sits down. "I've
been pinched, pawed, clawed, man-handled-" she looks at him.
"What happened to you?" she asks.

"Merely a brush with death," he tells her casually.

"Let me see," Laura tells him, going to pour some
champagne on a napkin as Steele opens his coat.

"Someone wanted to make damn sure I didn't poke around
that baggage claim area," he tells her.

She comes back and begins to clean the cut on his brow. "Well,
it wasn't Lorraine or Sally. They checked in with me. And Wanda
left the airport with Barry, that passenger with the Investment
company. So she's out."

"We can certainly account for the whereabouts of young
Boff," Steele comments.

Laura looks at him. "Biff," she corrects.

"Hmm. Sounds like a brand of car wax to me," he says.

"Which leaves Captain McBride or Freddy the flight engineer,"
Laura notes as Steele checks the softness of the bed.

"Splendid piece of deduction, Miss Holt," he agrees,
unbuttoning her uniform jacket and looking inside. He pulls her
down to face level. "Um, now that we've, uh, narrowed the
focus of our investigation down, what say we give the old gray
matter a rest and call it a day, umm?" he suggests, moving
closer for a kiss. But the phone rings, interrupting them. Steele
gives the phone a sideways glance. "Couldn't you get an unlisted
number?" he asks.

Looking a little disappointed, too, Laura goes to the phone
and sits down on the edge of the bed. "hello?"

"Miss Holt?" Mildred says over the line.

"Oh, hello, Mildred. Any luck on the ID of the body yet?"
she asks. Steele looks around, then at Laura, then bounces on
the bed.

"It's right here on my desk. Hold on a second," Mildred
says. Marvin is watching Mildred on the phone. As she fumbles
with the papers, she says, "Oh, Miss Holt, have I got an
ID for you!" Marvin rushes to another extension and picks
it up.

"Miss Holt? Marvin Slottman here. We're come up with four
aliases on the body in question."

"Cool it, Marvin," Mildred warns. She picks up a
paper. "Now, according to my research, Beldon works out of
Manhattan," Mildred tells Laura.

"*I* found that out, Miss Holt," Marvin insists.

"No one cares, Marvin," Mildred tells him with a
frown. "Besides, *I* found out about his trademark."

"What trademark?" Laura asks.

Steele, who is rolling up his sleeves
and loosening his tie, smiles in anticipation. He then leans over
and kisses Laura's shoulder, straightens the legs of his trousers,
and leans back against the pillows.

"A pair of bullet holes to the base
of the neck," Mildred tells Laura.

"Yeah," Marvin interjects.
"It's like his signature. You see, the organized crime branch
of the NYPD said..."

"That tears it!" Mildred declares,
and puts down the phone as she stands up to go over to Marvin.

Laura frowns. "Will somebody please
tell me what's going on?"

Mildred pulls the extension from the
wall and drops the end into Marvin's lap.

Laura looks confused. "I guess we
were cut off," she tells Steele as she hangs up.

She reclines on the bed beside Steele,
facing him. He pulls her even closer by putting his arms around
her, and looks at her very seductively.

"What is a big league hit man doing
on the baggage carousel of Platinum Air?" she wonders aloud.

We hear the sounds of kissing, and Laura says, "Recharge
your batteries, so to speak?"

Grinning, Biff leaves.

Still kissing, Laura tells Steele, "I'm sorry, Mr. Steele.
Company policy, remember? You wouldn't want me to lose my job."
She gives him another kiss, then gets up and pulls him from the
bed. He's disappointed by the turn of events.

They go to the door, and he opens it. "Wish I weren't
so damned dedicated," Steele mutters.

"Sweet dreams," Laura tells him, then closes the
door.

***

On the return flight, Biff corners Laura in the kitchen. He's
wearing sunglasses to hide his black eye. "Laura, you naughty
girl," he admonishes.

"Careful, sweet cheeks. Better be nice to the old Bifferino,"
he tells her, touching her hair. "Or I might spill the beans."

"What *beans*?" Laura asks.

"Breaking training. Passenger in your room."

"Put a sock in it, BOFF," she says, deliberately
mispronouncing his name before moving past him to the passenger
lounge.

Biff lowers his glasses. "BIFF," he corrects, angry.

***

Lorraine shows Steele onto the flight deck. "And this
is the cockpit," she tells him.

"Fascinating tour, Miss Maywood," he tells her, smiling
at Freddy.

"First time with us, Mr. Keach?" Freddy asks.

"No, indeed. I jetted in yesterday," Steele informs
him, looking toward the front of the cabin. "Didn't I see
you last night?"

"Not unless you were at the Garden, Mr. Keach," Freddy
says. "Rangers played the Oilers. My Rangers, I don't miss
them for nothin'."

Steele smiles. "Must be the uniform." He leans forward
to say, "Perhaps it was Captain McBride, eh?" he suggests.
McBride's face is made of stone as he flies the airplane. "No,
of course not. What am I talking about? Carry on," he says,
leaving the cockpit.

McBride doesn't look happy.

Wanda is carrying a tray of glasses, and drops one on the floor
as she gets to the bar where Laura's standing. She looks distraught.
"It's just a glass," Laura tells her, bending to pick
it up.

"Look, Wanda, what's between you and Barry is none of
my business. But if you ever-"

Sally comes out of the kitchen, glaring. "Let's move it
ladies," she says. "We've got passengers with empty
glasses out there." Wanda takes off. Sally comes around to
Laura as Laura picks up a tray of drinks. "Laura. Stay away
from Biff. Or somebody might just clip your wings."

Laura gives her a look, then heads out with the drinks. A passenger
passes her, pinching her bottom. She nearly spills the drinks
as Steele looks on. She moves to his side. "Your club soda,
sir."

"Thank you."

"Anything to report back here?" she asks.

"The salmon's a trifle salty," he tells her.

Laura frowns. "Anything else?"

"Freddy appears to have an alibi. I bet McBride's our
man." He drinks, chokes. "Miss! This is a lime! I wanted
a lemon!" he gives the glass back to her.

"But you asked for a lime, sir," Laura reminds him.

"Yes," Steele says, sounding like the typical difficult
passenger as he looks at his magazine. "But now I want a
LEMON!" he declares.

"Aren't you carrying this a little too far?" Laura
asks between tight lips?

Steele flips through the magazine, smiling. "Oh, just
thinking of our cover, Laura," he insists. Laura looks at
him, then "accidentally" spills the ice-cold lime water
into his lap. Steele gasps in shock.

"Oh!" she cries apologetically. "I'm terribly
sorry. How clumsy of me, sir. Here, let me get you're a napkin,"
she says, dabbing at his lap as he drops the magazine and glares
after her.

***

The plane lands in LA, and as they enter the office, Laura
tells Steele, "I hope Mildred's making some progress."

They stop, the door open, as they hear Mildred's voice. "*I*'ll
make the coffee around here, Marvin."

"Oh, listen to the expert! He's been here twelve seconds,
and he knows everything!"

The phone rings, and both Mildred and Marvin appear, running
toward the phones. Marvin picks up the re-connected extension
first. "Remington Steele Investigations," he says.

Mildred has picked up the one on her desk as well. "Remington
Steele Investigations. May I help you?"

"Go ahead, please," Marvin says.

Mildred looks at the phone. "He hung up, bright guy."

"Well I answered FIRST," Marvin insists.

Laura looks at Steele. "I hope you're proud of yourself,"
she tells him, then whistles loudly to get Mildred and Marvin's
attention. Steele winces at the shrill noise, and pokes at his
ear. "Alright, you two, neutral corners. Marvin, in there,"
she says, pointing to Steele's office. "Mildred, in my office,
please."

"But I was-" Mildred says.

"Now," Laura insists firmly.

Mildred and Marvin go to the offices. Laura turns to Steele.
"Mr. Slottman is history. Break it to him anyway you want."

"Now, have you come up with any reason why someone may
have wanted to smuggle a dead hit man onto the airplane?"

"Bumpkis," Mildred says.

Laura turns to lean against her desk beside Mildred. "Well,
as soon as Mr. Steele is through, we'll get to the bottom of it,"
she says, folding her arms. Mildred does likewise as they book
focus on the closed door to Steele's office.

***

Steele is having trouble. "Marvin, my boy, there comes
a time in every relationship . . . a critical phase . . . when
a gap . . .sometimes a vast chasm develops."

Marvin looks at his watch as the alarm on it goes off.. "Oh.
Sorry, sir. That means the alterations on your new suit have been
completed." He opens his ever present clipboard and takes
out his pen. "I'll- pick it up right away." Steele looks
stricken. "Oh, incidentally, your hair cut is at four o'clock
tomorrow. Oh, and by the way, the theatre was sold out for Saturday
night-but I persuaded the manager to give you the VIP box."
He adjusts his glasses. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Not at all, Marvin. Not at all. No. As I was saying,
sometimes chasms aren't as vast as they seem. Carry one. Yes.."
He moves thoughtfully past Marvin, pausing once. "VIP box,
eh?" he asks, smiling, then leaves.

Marvin smiles, pleased with his work.

At the elevators, Laura asks Steele, "How did he take
it?"

"Fairly well, under the circumstances."

"When is he leaving?"

"Six to eight weeks," Steele tells her as the elevator
arrives and he turns to get in.

"Background?" Mildred repeats, taking his arm. "I
can give you background. I've been here since the beginning. Well,
almost the beginning," she corrects. Marvin follows them.
"Let's say since the end of the beginning." She turns
to Marvin. "Hit the road, Junior." She and Bentley continue
toward Steele's office.

Marvin stands there for a moment, then starts toward the office,
too. Mildred slams the door in his face.

***

That night, at the "Final Approach Bar", Laura and
Steele arrive. Laura sees McBride sitting by himself at the bar.
"Bingo," she says, pointing him out to Steele, then
leaves him standing in the middle of the floor.

Lorraine, talking to someone else, sees him. "Trevor!"
she calls out, rising to go to him. "What are you doing here?"
she asks.

"Developed a sudden thirst," he tells her.

Lorraine places her hand on his chest. "Oh."

Laura joins McBride. "You know, I'm a sucker for a man
in uniform," she tells him. He turns to face her, and she
straightens his tie.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks.

"I've always wondered what life was like in the cockpit,"
she says suggestively.

McBride smiles. "Baby, I could write a book."

"I'm an avid reader."

"What say we start the first chapter?" he says.

Lorraine is standing very close to Steele as he looks at Laura
and McBride. "Come on, Trevor. Why don't you let me throttle
your engines?" she says.

Steele looks at her. "I'm afraid I'm out of gear,"
he tells her.

"I can fix that," Lorraine assures him, turning his
face back to hers again for a kiss. Steele sees Laura leaving
with McBride.

"Just a second," he says, stepping back and turning
away, only to find himself face to face with a rather large, angry
man.

"Take a hike," he orders.

"Gladly," Steele says, but Lorraine grabs his arm
to stop him.

"Get lost, Carl," she tells the man, gazing up at
Steele. "Trevor's more man that you'll ever be." She
touches his face. "He's sensitive."

"Oh, yeah?"

Steele faces Carl. "Actually, Carl, I can be quite callous,"
Steele starts to say, but Carl grabs him and picks him up, tossing
him into another table. Steele stands up, smiling. "All right.
We all feel better now?" he asks, and is promptly hit on
the jaw.

Outside, Laura and McBride are waiting for his car. "You're
gonna love the Jacuzzi," he tells her.

"Sounds delicious," she replies, glancing back toward
the bar, looking for Steele.

She moves away for a moment, and McBride's attention is caught
by a copy of the Los Angeles Tribune in a nearby newspaper rack.
The headline blares, "Platinum Air, Meat Wagon in the Sky".
Below it are pictures of Remington Steele and Laura Holt. The
smaller headline reads, "Secretary Tells All."

Steele knocks an unconscious Carl into Lorraine's arms, and
declares, "You make a perfect couple." He leaves to
applause.

Outside, Steele sees the taillights of McBride's car as it
pulls away into traffic.

***

Laura and McBride enter his apartment. He puts his jacket over
a chair. "Been with Platinum long?" he asks.

"A couple of months."

He dims the lights. "So how do you like that London route?"
he asks her. "A real bear, huh?"

"Absolutely," she answers.

McBride comes up to her and turns her toward him. "You
know, it's funny. We don't *have* a London route." Laura
tries to get away, but McBride stops her. "Just what kind
of a game are you up to, Miss Private Detective?"

"You're the one who's going to need some answers. Like
why you killed Johnny Beldon?" Laura responds.

"I don't know any Johnny Beldon."

"You knew him well enough to stuff him in that duffle,"
she says.

He lets her go. "Hey, I had nothing to do with that."

"Sure. And I bet you didn't know he was a contract killer,
either."

"Wait, wait, wait a minute," McBride is saying, when
the doors burst open and Steele enters, out of breath.

"It's all over, McBride," he says.

McBride pushes Laura into Steele and takes off. Laura pushes
away from Steele. "Great work," she tells him, and takes
off after McBride.

"What kind of thanks is that?" Steele asks her, then
follows her.

They chase him through the complex. "He was about to tell
me everything!" Laura tells Steele.

"It's worth a fortune in Honolulu," McBride tells
them, sitting on another crate.

"Honolulu?" Laura questions.

"Did you ever try to get a decent pastrami sandwich on
the islands? Ugh. Taste like cardboard and you pay through the
nose." Steele sits down. "So me and my buddy, we got
this idea. You see, I fly New York/LA, he flies LA/Honolulu. So
we figured, why not ship the real thing? The freshest, juiciest
pastrami in New York City, direct from the Big Apple to Waikiki?"

Laura looks up at him as she continues. "Yes. Well, for
security reasons, we couldn't even let *you* know how close we've
come to breaking this wide open."

"Precisely," Steele agrees, turning Ketchum toward
the door. "Now that the trap has been set, it's only a matter
of hours before we- reveal the guilty party," he assures
the client as he and Laura edge him forward. "Now, you sit
tight, don't breath a word to anyone."

"You can count on me," Ketchum promises. He stops
in the doorway and taps the headline on the paper. "By gum,
Steele. You're as good as they say you are." He leaves the
office.

Laura takes a deep sigh of relief, then looks at Steele. "Speaking
of guilty parties," she says.

Mildred sits in a chair in the middle of the reception area,
looking warily at Steele and Laura as they approach. Marvin stands
behind her, clipboard in hand. "He said he was from Time
Magazine," Mildred tells them. "He even talked in short
sentences." Laura looks at Steele. "How was I supposed
to know he's just a local reporter?"

"Oh, I bust my chops for you. And what thanks do I get?
You bring in Twinkle Toes over here. Oh ho, I can see the handwriting
on the wall. I've got some of my own," she tells them, going
to the desk and picking up her purse. "I quit." She
goes to the door and leaves.

"Do something," Laura tells Steele.

"She'll be back," he says.

Sure enough, a second later, Mildred comes back through the
doors. Marvin smiles at Steele, who smiles back. Mildred picks
up her name plate, gives Steele and Laura a go to hell look, and
leaves again.

Laura looks at Steele, who looks ill.

***

At Mildred's condo, she's sitting at her kitchen counter, going
through the want ads, when Steele knocks at the back door. She
turns, sees him, and then goes back to the paper, ignoring him.

Steele picks up her cup and puts it before her. "You know
what I want," he says. "What Miss Holt wants."
He stands there, nervous.

"I'd like to hear it," Mildred tells him, looking
at the paper again.

"We want you back," he tells her.

She looks up at him, shakes her head. "I don't think so."

"Look, Mildred," he says, sitting down. "I apologize.
I'm really sorry." She keeps circling ads. "Would you
at least do me the courtesy of looking up while I grovel?"

"I don't want you to grovel."

"Tell me what you *do* want, then."

"How about a little respect for once?"

"You've always had that, Mildred."

"Yeah? Then how come when you look at me, you only see
someone to fetch your coffee and make your appointments?"
she asks. Steele sits back, looking away. "Oh, I know why
you brought Marvin in. Because lately I'm spending more time with
the Agency business, and you miss your personal attention."

Steele smiles. "You were so winning as the adoring subordinate,
Mildred."

"Well, you can't turn back the clock. And I learned your
secret in London, and it's just changed my outlook."

"I see. Is my secret really that meaningful? I mean, we're
a team, the three of us. You, Miss Holt, me. Let's not break that
up."

"Look, before I signed on as your major domo, I was a
member of the IRS fraud squad, remember? It's very discouraging
to find out that I have more qualifications for your job than
you do."

"Well, I may not have had the formal training, Mildred,
but I-"

"I figure that if you can play detective, I can play more
than pencil pusher. And that's that."

"So that's it," Steele says, upset. He stands. "There's
nothing else I can say to get you back."

Mildred looks up at him. "Well, I wouldn't go quite that
far," she says, smiling. Steele returns the smile, sensing
a break-thru. "But- there have to be some changes."
Steele sits down again. "Minor changes."

"Uh huh. Flexibility is our motto."

"Well, let's see. Oh, nah. We'd have to run this by Miss
Holt, anyway."

Steele takes her hand. "Mildred, I guarantee-from now
on, the buck stops right here," he says, hitting the table.
"Fire away. Please. Go right ahead."

"Well, eventually, I'd like to get my private investigator's
license."

"Splendid notion!" Steele declares.

"Which means I'd have to be much more involved in our
cases."

"You will?" Steele asks, frowning slightly.

"You have to apprentice for three years before you can
even apply for a license."

Laura knocks on the back door. "Oh. Speaking of the devil,"
Mildred says, getting up to let her in. Steele is trying to figure
out how to do this. He picks up Mildred's coffee cup, drinks,
then looks at the contents with a strange expression. "Come
on in," Mildred tells Laura.

"Mildred, you look like the cat that just swallowed the
canary," Laura comments. Mildred is glowing, about to bust
with her news. "Does this mean you're coming back?"
she asks, putting an arm around Mildred's shoulders.

"Eh? Oh, Miss Holt!" he says, joining the ladies.
"Nice to see you, Laura. Hi, how are you doing? What are
you doing here?" he asks.

"It just came over the news, a body washed up onshore
in San Pedro. Two bullet holes at the base of the neck."

"Beldon's trademark," Steele recalls. "Let's
get down there right away," he tells Laura. Mildred tries
to stop him.

"Chief," she says.

"Later, Mildred. It seems that the ghost of our contract
killer just claimed another victim. Coming, Miss Holt, not a moment
to lose. Yes, coming. Coming," he tells her, passing Mildred,
who grabs his coat tail to try and stop him. He bats her hold
away and follows Laura out.

Mildred puts her hands on her hips, fully aware that he's afraid
to tell Laura about their agreement.

***

At the Medical Examiner's office, Laura and Steele are looking
at the body of the dead man. "Interesting color," Steele
comments, looking sick.

The ME tells them, "Well, he spent the last few nights
in a kelp bed."

"Uh huh."

"Still be down there if that fishing trawler hadn't dragged
him up."

"Any luck with an ID?" Laura asks.

"No prints," the man tells her. "His fingers
nibbled away."

"Nibbled?" Steele questions.

"By what?" Laura asks.

"Well, there's lots of things down there that nibble,"
the little man tells them with a strange smile. "You shoulda
seen the guy they brought in here last week. His fingers wasn't
the only thing that was missin'."

"Would you skip the inventory part?" Steele begs.

"May I?" Laura asks, going around to lift the sheet
again. Steele moves off as she examines the body closely. "Hmm.
Any idea how long he was down there?"

"I'd say from the state of decomposition, at least four
days."

She lowers the sheet over the body. "Well, that's it for
me. Any questions for you, Mr. S-" she stops, realizing that
he's gone. "Mr. Steele?"

***

Back at the office, Laura paces Steele's office as he sits
behind the desk, sipping his coffee. "Try this on for size.
Somebody hires a contract killer to murder whomever's in the morgue,
and then decides to get rid of the contract killer as well."

"Yes, but which crewmember hired the killer in the first
place and why?" he asks.

Laura perches on the edge of the desk. "She seems awfully
spry today."

"Ah, yes, no doubt she's just delighted to be back among
us. Um-" he stands up. "I was thinking, Laura-"
he joins her on the edge of the desk. "What if Beldon- our
contract killer- was blackmailing the fella who hired him. Then
the fella who hired him would have to get rid of Beldon as well."

Laura nods. "Not bad. Not bad."

Mildred comes back in. "I hate to disturb you, but Sally
Devon is on line one for Miss Holt."

"Well, I'm here if you need me," she says, turning
toward the reception area again with a laugh.

Laura asks Steele, "What exactly did you tell her?"

Steele picks up the phone and shakes his head as he hands it
to her. "Here you go."

Laura keeps looking at his guilty face as she answers. "Laura
Holt . . . Start at the beginning . . . How long ago? . . . We're
on our way." She hangs up the phone. "That was Sally,"
she tells him. "Wanda called and she's hysterical. Something
about a life and death emergency."

"Where does Wanda fit into this puzzle?" Steele wonders,
joining her as she leaves the office.

"Mildred, we'll be at Wanda Sutton's apartment,"
Laura tells Mildred.

"Right."

"Later, Mildred," Steele says, passing her as she
tries to get his attention again. He waves his hand at her, putting
her off again.

Mildred starts working on some papers on her desk as Marvin
comes out of the coffee room, carrying his stuff. He stands there,
looking at her. She pretends to ignore him. Finally she looks
up at him, and he comes to the desk. "Well, I guess this
is goodbye," he tells her.

"Guess so."

He starts to move off, then stops. "Listen, I didn't realize
how important you are to this organization until Mr. Steele spelled
it out for me," he tells her.

"Spelled what out?"

"Well, right after you left, he explained how irreplaceable
you are. How there's really no need for an intern in this office."

"The Boss said that?"

"Yeah," he says, nodding.

"Can't you get another internship?" Mildred asks
him.

"Too late for that now. But I'm young. I'll bounce back.
Maybe I'm not cut out for this, anyway."

"That's not true. All you need is a little seasoning from
a real pro."

"Well, either she's not home, or she can't answer the
door," Laura tells them.

"All right," Steele tells her. "Stand back."
He starts to run toward the door, and is almost ready to hit it,
when Biff yells out.

"Wait!" Steele looks at him. "I've got a key."
He tosses it to Steele as Sally glares at him. "Come on,
Sal, it was a long time ago. Huh?"

They enter the apartment. "Wanda?" Steele calls.

Laura leads the group into the bedroom, which is a mess. Clothing
and bedcovers are strewn everywhere. "Wanda?" Laura
calls softly.

Steele opens the bathroom door, and Lorraine is right beside
him. Laura sees a high-heel sticking from under the bed, and as
she turns, Lorraine sees it too. She cries out, grabbing Steele.
Laura kneels slowly and closes her eyes, then grabs the shoe-
which is empty. There's no body under the bed, as Laura bends
to confirm.

"So where's Wanda?" Biff asks.

"Coming thru!" Mildred calls, entering the room with
Marvin right behind her. "Stand aside!" she pushes through
Biff and Sally to get to Steele and Laura.

"Mildred, this is not the time," Steele tells her,
pulling Lorraine away from him as he speaks.

"Oh, no, Boss. We got the low-down on that stiff."

"Well, actually, Mildred did most of the research,"
Marvin explains.

"Oh," Mildred says, looking at him. "Don't sell
yourself short, Marvin. You did a lot of the groundwork."

"Would one of you please tell us what you found out?"
Laura asks.

"That guy was an SEC investigator on the trail of a massive
Wall Street investment scam!" Mildred declares.

"And the company he was investigating- Holder Investments-
owned by Barry Holder," Marvin finishes.

"He's the passenger who was having the affair with Wanda,"
Laura says. "I knew there was something strange going on
here. I bet she discovered what he was up to."

Ketchum tells the ground controller, "You're damn right
I'll take the responsibility! You give that pilot any clearance
he wants!" He watches the plane taxi on a monitor.

"Okay, hold her steady, McBride," Steele tells the
pilot, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his collar.

"Where are you going?" Laura asks as Steele stands
up.

"I'm going to get a breath of fresh air," he tells
her.

Laura's confused, remains in the cockpit with McBride.

Barry sees the jet coming toward them on the ground, and is
so concerned that Wanda manages to break free and run away. Barry
keeps running from the plane as Steele opens an emergency hatch
and climbs out onto the wing.

Laura glances out and sees him on the wing, and pats McBride
on the shoulder to show him. McBride looks worried, but keeps
going.

The plane catches up to Barry, and Steele jumps onto him from
the wing, knocking him down. Steele picks him up. "Happy
landings," he says, then hits Barry, knocking him out.

Steele pulls the handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his
face before walking away.

***

Later, on the walkway surrounding the ground control tower,
Ketchum asks Steele and Laura, "Let me get this straight.
This guy Barry really was using MY airline as a meat wagon?"

"But when Barry found out there was an SEC agent on his
tail, he decided to hire a contract killer to dispose of the problem,"
Steele continues. He holds up his hand like a gun and clicks his
tongue twice. "Two bullet holes in the back of the neck."

"Then he had innocent Wanda smuggle the body on board
YOUR airplane. Wanda had no idea what was in that duffle."

"The body of the SEC man arrived here in Los Angeles,
Barry claimed the body- and dumped it in the ocean."

"Why'd he do that?" Ketchum asks.

"To create the perfect alibi," Laura points out.

"Barry's in New York, the body washes up on shore here
in LA."

"When the contract killer got greedy," Laura says,
"Barry killed him and tried to pull off the same scheme."

'Um. And it would have worked, too, if it hadn't been for your
faulty baggage system."

"Well, thank heaven for small glitches," Ketchum
agrees. "You know, I gotta admit, I had my doubts about you,
Steele. But you did a first rate job."

Mildred and Marvin come around the corner behind them. "Ready
for home, Boss?"

"Absolutely," Steele agrees.

"Shall I bring the car round, Miss Krebs?" Marvin
asks.

"Go ahead, Marvin," she tells him. "We'll meet
you at the curb."

"Right," he says, and leaves them.

"He's a good kid," Mildred tells Steele and Laura.
"I'm gonna tutor him on the side. Listen, Boss, I need to
talk to you about vacation time. But- maybe I'd better wait until
you've had your talk with Miss Holt." She turns to follow
Marvin.